


Shocking! (in the worst way)

by chraezanty17



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 100 percent crack, All but bashing Season 5, Books vs Show, F/M, Game of Thrones 6x01: The Red Woman, Game of Thrones 6x02: Home, Not to be taken seriously, Parody?Ish?, Season 6 has started and I am done, Spoilers, really really not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 04:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6141975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chraezanty17/pseuds/chraezanty17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Many men and women of Westeros find themselves in a world that seems identical to their own. Yet, there are crucial differences.</p><p>Or: Let's chuck ASOIAF characters into D&Ds Season 5 and 6 plotlines and see what happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Season Five as a whole

**Author's Note:**

> Timelines for the ASOIAF characters: Jaime, Cersei, Sansa and Arianne "emerge" out of AFFC (all of them from the end of their last chapter except for Arianne, who goes from "The Princess in the Tower" before she gets to confront Doran to s5), Ellaria and Tyrion from ADWD.
> 
> Take all of this with a grain of salt.

 Arianne Martell met Doran's gaze.

"Finally you deign to speak to me, Father. How grateful may I be that you honor your heir with your presence?"

"I just sent him away with the Lannisters to sail for King's Landing."

She laughed and thought she could taste sour wine on her tongue. "A very funny jest, I confess. Answer me but this: why do you insist on insulting me? I know of your letter, in which you wrote that Quentyn would one day rule all of Dorne. By law, I am his elder and am first in line to the throne. Or have you forgotten the history of our lands, dating back to Nymeria?"

"I sent Trystane."

She did not know whether to laugh or cry at the image of her dear brother, aged ten-and-three, surrounded in a den of lions.

"Where is Quentyn?"

She only received a dumbfounded look as an answer.

"YOU WILL NOT ROB ME OF MY BIRTHRIGHT!"

* * *

 Ellaria Sand woke to find herself standing on a dock, the sun blinding her. She turned to the Sand Snakes next to her.

"Tyene, what has happened?" Uncertainty colored her voice.

The girl who she had previously known to dress and act as demure and sweet as any maid had changed drastically since she had last seen her, somehow - gone was any trace of modesty in her clothing that hid the vicious intelligence beneath her mask of a septa and she was surprised to find twin daggers on her person, when the girl had always been the one to prefer poisons as bloodshed was judged as messy.

Tyene grinned. "We succeeded in our plan, Mother."

Ellaria stared at her blankly. She held considerable affection towards all the Sand Snakes since they were Oberyn's, but the one speaking to her was not of her own flesh.

"What do you mean?"

Tyene spoke slowly, as if to a mere child. "We killed Myrcella Baratheon, daughter of Cersei Lannister, granddaughter of Tywin Lannister who is to blame for Father's death and Aunt Elia's both. Or rather, you did. With a kiss on her lips."

The Red Viper's paramour thought she might be sick. "This is a cruel jape. Stop it, I beg of you."

Nymeria frowned. "What is the matter, Mother?"

The wind stung in Ellaria's eyes. "I don't desire revenge. There has already been too much spilled blood. What will more death bring you, or me? Any of us? Much more the murder of innocents? It will not bring back those who have passed."

She closed her eyes.  _I must be going mad with grief._

* * *

One moment, Ser Jaime Lannister, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, sworn to protect King Tommen of House Baratheon, could hear the flames devouring the letter, eating Cersei's words. He could smell the fire roasting her pledge of love, all her pleading, her desperate need of him. He felt no guilt, not then.

Suddenly, he felt as if jerked wide awake to wake on a boat standng next to a man whose features seemed vaguely familiar but he found impossible to place on the spot.

"Do I know you?"

He grinned with an arrogance and confidence that would have had Jaime think they were equals.

"Aye, Ser Bronn of the Blackwater, if it please you." He answered.

The name finally registered in his mind as a common sellsword awarded an empty title set to marry Lollys Stokeworth. He used to be Tyrion's pawn.

 _Yes, I killed your vile son._ He pushed the thought of his little brother away. 

"Are you really that stupid?" Bronn asked.

Jaime bristled but held his tongue.

"We just went to Dorne to rescue your little princess daughter."

_Myrcella? She's betrothed to Doran's son, the youngest. They are children. Why would she need rescue? And what does this one think he knows about me and my sweet sister?_

"Didn't work so well." Bronn continued and nodded at what could only mean to be a cloth concealing a corpse.

Jaime felt sluggish and in his cups even though he could not recall drinking wine for days. "I was sent to break the siege on Riverrun..." He muttered to himself.

Bronn shrugged.

"And why would you accompany me on a mission such as this? You're a sellsword blessed with as much comfort as he's bound to get in his life and more. Why would you abandon a life fit for a lord?"

The former swellsword laughed. "I was promised a reward. And you know these Dornish, they just want to fight and fuck. One wench even tried to poison me while she showed me her tits. Before we sailed away she told me, "You want a good girl but you need the bad pussy.""

Jaime cringed, and was only more appalled when he saw that a phrase he had not heard in his life, not even from the most drunk or desperate camp follower, seemed to actually arouse the man.

They watched the water as the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard contemplated what felt like the oddest dream. He was on the way to Tommen, his son. His only remaining child.

"Bet you want to see your sister again?"

 _She's been fucking Lancel and Osmund Kettleblack and Moon Boy, for all I know..._ "Nothing would please me more." He said, gritting his teeth.

He wondered what was happening to Cersei as they spoke, knowing she would find no champion since he had refused her

 _(and you're still a cripple who cannot fight anymore_ , a voice hissed in the back of his mind)

and there was no one left of his brothers in white cloaks who could fight suitably in a trial by combat.

* * *

The Queen Regent wanted to claw Qyburn's eyes out as soon as she saw him entering her chamber. 

" _They presumed to imprison me in a cell._ " She seethed.

The chainless maester frowned.

"It's been two weeks since your release, Your Grace."

Cersei scoffed. "Do you take me for a fool? What do you mean by this?"

"The punishment has been served, Your Grace, and Queen Margaery is on trial."

She dismissed the comment and with it the title hers by rights attributed to the Tyrell girl as his misguided attempt at a jape. Just maybe, everything after Kettleblack's foolish confession and betrayal had been a dream. It would be appropriate, she thought.

_Well, finally the little rose will lose her head._

"Then at last we shall see how many lovers she will confess to."

Qyburn's face took on a curious expression. "I do not believe I get your meaning, Your Grace."

She scoffed. "You are an intelligent man."

He stepped closer. "She is on trial for speaking falsely at the trial of Ser Loras Tyrell."

"The Knight of Flowers?" Cersei blurted incredulously. "As far as anyone knows he is still at death's door, suffering from the wounds he took at Dragonstone. Anyhow, he is not my concern. I want the little queen to admit that she has been entertaining lovers and has lied about being a maid still. As if such a claim could be believed of someone twice widowed."

Qyburn seemed to hesitate before he opened his mouth again. "Queen Margaery has consumated her marriage with His Grace."

Cersei paled.  _That isn't right. Tommen is not of age yet, he is only eight. If he was, it would make her a true Queen, with me no longer the Regent. They would be ruling the realm in my stead._

She banished all thoughts of such manner, each more ludicrous in comparison to the one before it.

However, none of that did anything to quell her rage.

"Get out before I have your tongue cut out. Go back to your dungeons." She snapped and watched as the man silently took his leave with a bow.

She called on her maid. "Bring me a flask of wine. Red. Strong."

* * *

 Even through the daze of wine, Tyrion heard the Spider's explanation about the Dragon Queen.

"What about Young Griff?" He asked.

Varys looked at him as if he was a drunk rambling on about nonsense. The first half of which, he had to confess, was fair.

"Aegon Targaryen?"

The eunuch raised an eyebrow. "He has been dead many years, my lord."

Tyrion shook his head. "What has happened to you, Varys? Since when do you tell me your entire plan and motivations? Since when do you so drastically change your mind?"

The stench of lavendel roiled his stomach, but then again that must have been the effect of drinking on an all but empty one.

"I considered killing you, you know. I had already killed Shae and my lord father, what was one more man to me?"

Varys continued to watch him with a stony expression.

"You could argue I shoudn't have killed the great Tywin Lannister in the first place," Tyrion resumed, "But imagine that you had just found out that your brother had lied to you your entire life, that your own father had convinced a you aged three-and-ten that your wife was nothing more than a whore seeking your wealth, then proceeded to have her brutally raped by a number of guards in front of your very eyes. Imagine her name was Tysha, and that she had not been a whore at all, but an innocent crofter's daughter..."

The Spider regarded him with a cool gaze. "I was under the impression that you killed them because Shae spoke out at your trial and was naked in your father's bed. The woman you loved and the woman who loved you."

Tyrion scoffed. "Oh, she didn't love me. I knew that somehow, I suppose, but I didn't want to realize it. She was always a whore and I never forgot it. Never that, even though I loved her."

Silence settled.

"Didn't you plot to have Daenerys Targaryen killed years ago? Robert must have found out and wanted her head. It seems contrary to a calling to support her now, risking her demise, actively making that option more probable."

Varys did not choose to bless him with an answer.

* * *

 Alayne was cold.

She felt the warmth of the Vale fading, making space for biting wind and snow. She looked to her left and felt as if for a moment even her blood had turned to ice.

His hair had gone white, his body was held upright by no more than skin and bones and the flesh of his haggard face was sickly pale. And yet.

"Theon?"

Though she had hardly dared to whisper, he looked at her as soon as she had spoken.

She struggled to put the words in her head in order. "What is- why are you-"

He looked at her with a curious expression on his face. "You were married to Lord Ramsay Bolton, my lady. But don't worry, we've escaped."

Alayne's head was reeling, her mind still full of whispers in her ear, the promise of a match with Harry the Heir, an identity revealed at the right opportunity, her home, her birthright, her claim.

Why would she ever be sent away from the Eyrie? Why would a Bolton, an ally to the Lannisters, marry a bastard with the name Stone? A nobody?

Theon went on. "He did horrible things to us both. He raped you, he abused you. He tortured me for months. The day Petyr Baelish brought you to the Dreadfort I could not believe my eyes. I never thought I would see a Stark again for as long as I lived."

_Stark. I am Sansa Stark._

The notion took her breath away.

She thought,  _There must always be a Stark in Winterfell._

She thought, _Petyr_ _would never let anyone hurt me._ _He has me as his daughter._

_I remind him of my mother._

_He wants to offer me the North._

_He would never make a rash decision when he has plans spanning years. He always has an ally. The only one powerful enough to oppose the Crown is Stannis Baratheon, but he would never help me and Petyr knows it. To Stannis, I am a Lannister myself. The Imp's Wife. Petyr waits for him to die do I can seduce Harry. Marrying Ramsay would only give him Bolton heirs and strengthen their House._

She thought, _None of this makes any sense._


	2. Season 6, Episode 1: "The Red Woman"; King's Landing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime has a dream in which he tells Cersei of Myrcella's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Red Woman" aired recently and I am livid. Goodbye, any chances of character development for Jaime. Hello, regression and painting Cersei as a victim that deserves all the love and revenge on her enemies.  
> Why do D&D dislike post-Storm of Swords Jaime so much?  
> Oh, that's right. The decision to exclude the Tysha reveal and not establishing Cersei as a woman who uses sex to manipulate men made it impossible for Jaime to realize how toxic their relationship is for both of them. Game of Thrones: Incest FTW.  
> This season is going to be fun.

Jaime Lannister saw himself standing on a ship, staring out at the sea.

He watched as it neared shore and the corpse of his daughter was carried onto a boat.

They neared King's Landing, every stroke of the oars bringing them closer to his King as well as his sweet sister.

_She's been fucking Lancel and Osmund Kettleblack and Moon Boy, for all I know..._

And yet, she looked transformed, quite unlike the woman that had sent him to the Riverlands, asking him if he was mourning what he'd lost as she lounged naked in the bathtub. Now, her hair had been cut to the length of a man's and the expression on her still beautiful face was one of devastation.

Suddenly, they were in her chambers, with Cersei reminiscing about their mother's corpse.

He couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness then. Some nights, he still lay awake, contemplating the dream in which the woman had walked away from him as he stood guard over the rotting and stinking body of the great and powerful Tywin Lannister.

His twin had moved her thoughts onto their daughter, talking of her purity, of how the fact that she had come from her should have proven that she was no monster.

_How quickly you change your mind about your children, sister._

He could still picture Tommen's tears at his grandfather's funeral as well as Cersei's fury at this show of weakness. She had always favored Joffrey, taken his evident joy in tormenting everyone from the most insignificant singer to Sansa Stark as nothing more than a sign that he was going to be a strong-willed ruler that would crush any enemy with unmatched ferocity. Joffrey had never been pure and good and yet she had loved him best.

And then she was close to tears, confessing, voice shaking, rambling about a prophecy. He frowned, never having heard anything similar from her his entire life.

In disbelief, Jaime watched himself going down on his knees before her, his mirror image opening his mouth to utter the declaration that anyone who wasn't the two of them could go fuck themselves.

"Everything they've taken from us, we're going to take back and more."

He remembered his father's rejection as clear as day, stating that he was no longer his son, but only the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard who should do his duty. He remembered the hanging of criminals, his ludicrous and fleeting thought of a future of being known as Goldenhand the Just. He remembered the surrender of Riverrun without any spilled blood and the relief that came, for once having not broken a vow, this one to the she-wolf not to take up arms against either Tully or Stark.

He thought he could taste bile in his throat as the two figures in front of his eyes embraced.

"Ser Jaime!"

He jerked awake to the sight of a face that could curdle milk.

"Brienne." He rasped, disorientation clinging to his senses. "Is it dawn already?"

She nodded. "We have to set out now, before it is too late."

He stood and followed.

They had to find Sansa Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few legitimate questions:
> 
> \- Why is Davos so loyal to Jon('s corpse) all of a sudden? Why doesn't he go home to his family now that Stannis, his king, is dead? How is he cool with Melisandre after she's burned Shireen?
> 
> \- Who are all those black brothers who are not Dolorous Edd that guard Jon's corpse? Have we ever seen them before?
> 
> \- Who gave the Sand Snakes a Tardis so they could teleport onto Trystane's ship? How is everyone in Dorne a-okay with Ellaria killing Doran? Why is her solution to "We need to revenge my dead lover" murdering his brother and his heir?
> 
> \- Who is in charge at King's Landing right now? Kevan? Cersei? Tommen?
> 
> \- Why do Khal Moro and Company ignore Daenerys when she lists her titles in Dothraki but immediately believe her when she claims to be Drogo's widow?
> 
> \- Where are Missandei and Grey Worm while Varys and Tyrion stroll around Mereen?
> 
> \- Where is Drogon?
> 
> \- What was the point in Sansa forgetting the words to pledge Brienne to her service?
> 
> \- Since Roose admitted that Ramsay's marriage to Sansa was an act of rebellion against the crown, why do it when they already had power over the North before?
> 
> \- Have D&D even read A Feast for Crows and A Dance With Dragons?


	3. Season 6, Episode 2: "Home"; Braavos/Mereen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentyn Martell is delirious.  
> Arya Stark is lost.
> 
> The "Crack" part of my tags becomes especially relevant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Davos is Jon's Number One Fan for unknown reasons still. Show Jaime could almost not be more removed from his book counterpart if D&D tried. Theon is going to travel to the Iron Islands all on his own how? That's a LOT of ground to cover. The interesting Bolton got killed and Walda deserved better. Watching my favorite character getting her ass kicked is not my definition of fun.  
> I would have written a crack chapter about Victarion getting offended at how he doesn't exist but I didn't quite know how to make that work. Which, considering the rest of this cracky fanfiction story, may not mean much because none of this makes a lot of sense. Ah well.
> 
> As much as I like to bitch about this show, this episode was a lot better than the season premiere. I absolutely loved seeing the Young Starks Flashback. And Balon finally kicked the bucket about three seasons too late.

Quentyn Martell was dying.

He still saw the dragons as they had been before his world had exploded into flame and smoke and pain.

He was dreaming, he knew, because he saw their dungeon again, shrouded in darkness as it had been before flame had bathed its space and released the beasts within. He thought he saw the flickering light of a torch in the distance and fancied he could hear the rattle of chains.

Daenerys' children were still locked up? How could that be?

Then, the figure carrying the torch stepped forward and Quentyn gave a start. A dwarf? Who was he and why was he fool enough to try to approach the dragons in the first place?

The stranger was speaking to the dragons, his voice steady. His hands didn't even seem to be shaking.

_What gives him such confidence that they will not burn him and spit out his bones once they are done?_

Viserion and Rhaegal did no such thing.

Quentyn stared as the dwarf's words registered in his mind. A friend to their mother? Surely he himself had spent enough time in the Dragon Queen's court that he would have noticed any such?

The dragontamer was approaching the first of them and struck off the chain around his neck with seeming ease. The dragon hissed, but made no move to harm the dwarf, who was now recounting a childhood story of longing for one such creature as was now in front of him.

The second chain soon joined that of his brother on the ground.

_Now they will surely flee and leave behind naught but a heap of ashes._ He pitied the brave man.

He should not have, however, for the dragons remained.

The eldest son of Doran Martell watched in amazement as the dwarf walked toward the entrance where an unknown appeared to have been waiting on him the entire time.

"Next time I have an idea like that, punch me in the face."

Quentyn gaped at what must surely have been a fever dream as his body was melting.

_How did he manage it, by the old gods and the new?_

* * *

She dreamed of no wolves for once.

She saw herself crouching on the steps, begging, ignored by those around her as she had been as Blind Beth.

Suddenly, the Waif appeared.

She wanted to ask her what she was doing outside of the House of Black and White when the other girl hit her in the face with a stick.

Beth gave a start.

Why was the Waif so hostile all of a sudden? The two of them surely were not the best of friends, but she had thought that they had a better relationship than that.

Soon enough, her trainer left her to be replaced with-

_Jaqen H'ghar?_

She still remembered when he had told Arya of House Stark that is was time for him to die, when he had changed his face as easily as putting on a mask. What had led his path to Braavos? Had the Many-Faced God ordered him to bring the gift to a Braavosi?

He was speaking to her, prompting her to speak her true name, repeating himself to add new temptations with each turn of the phrase.

She was confused. The Kindly Man had told her time and time again that she could retrieve her sight any moment she wished, and yet she had held up the cup with the curious drink up to her lips each night, making the conscious choice to remain with the Faceless Men who had never been outright cruel towards her. She knew that she had to master her senses in order for her training to evolve and she had not yet been refused shelter at the House as long as she had tales to tell of the new things she had learned during the day. Beth had been granted full control of her senses again as soon as she had been able to make observations she would have previously needed her eyes for.

Her mirror image appeared to have had a different experience, but still kept giving the same answer. "A girl has no name."

Jaqen seemed to take pity on her then, escorting her away from the street.

She woke from the strange dream at dawn.

"Mercy!"

She followed the call. 

**Author's Note:**

> I also wanted to include other characters, but I couldn't figure out how to write certain things, specifically:
> 
> \- Jon's confusion as to why the Watch seems to stab him for no good reason since he remembers having done a lot more morally ambiguous things (Gilly's/Dalla's baby swap, anyone?) than his show counterpart. Also "Who the hell is this Olly kid?"
> 
> \- Book!Stannis mid-burning Shireen and being beyond enraged.
> 
> \- Dany dealing with a considerably less complicated political situation in Mereen. Plus confusion at how Daario Naharis isn't as, uh, colorful anymore.
> 
> \- Brienne being horrified at her show counterpart casually beheading Stannis while leaving Sansa behind at the mercy of a notoriously sadistic man, with the last thing she can remember being Lady Stoneheart having her hanged.
> 
> \- Arya being confused as to how she can magically change her face now. Also Jaqen's presence and the waif being randomly mean to her.
> 
> \- Loras still mourning Renly and doing things other than banging random dudes. Also Loras in the Kingsguard.
> 
> \- Gendry going from working on a new helmet in that house run by orphans in AFFC to being stuck on a boat somewhere in the middle of the sea in the dark and panicking. Also his arms are really tired for some reason. He seems to have been travelling for quite a while now.


End file.
